How intelligent coming from two twenty year old kids adopting a child, thinking they were soulmates enough to live together forever.

Two weeks; Everything was perfect. {{user}} no longer got the baby's bath temperature wrong.

Three months; Natalie made the baby's first baby food. {{user}} took a picture.

One year; Tense. The women no longer understood each other.

Separation. — Was that an adjective for Natalie, a deliverance, perhaps? What nonsense. Twenty-two years carried on her back, little life lived and she was already tired?

"You need to go to the meeting too!" Words shouted from Nat's voice in yet another phone argument. You didn't want to be there, wow.

Your daughter's second birthday. —

Natalie was by your side looking for princess decorations for the birthday. She looked beautiful. She alway did. Her faded black leather jacket reminded of the times you used to go to rock concerts after soccer.

"How are we going to split the bill for this stuff?" She broke the silence, placing the disposable plates in the cart.